


A Long-awaited Date

by FreckledSaint



Category: Frozen (Disney Movies), Tangled (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26718778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckledSaint/pseuds/FreckledSaint
Summary: It was the last Thursday afternoon in September. Whatever warmth of summer that lingered after August had bid its final farewell, and now Seamus found himself shivering on the balcony. He leaned against the railings, lit a cigarette, and quietly considered the past half-year.
Relationships: Hans/Murphy Stabbington
Kudos: 17





	A Long-awaited Date

**Author's Note:**

> Everybody say thank you to Sister Evangelina from 'Call the Midwife' for singlehandedly inspiring me to write this

It was the last Thursday afternoon in September. Whatever warmth of summer that lingered after August had bid its final farewell, and now Seamus found himself shivering on the balcony. He leaned against the railings, lit a cigarette, and quietly considered the past half-year.

His brother had moved out of their shared flat back in spring. Rider had taken his room and (somehow) enrolled into college, which meant he was constantly bringing people home.

Most were the regular chums you’d expect to pursue higher education: bland economics majors, dreadful business school kids, exhausted med students, etc. They came and they went like fruit flies hovering over a rotten orange. Seamus usually ignored them till Rider brought home two rich kids that – for some reason – became regular visitors.

The first was a bubbly blonde girl who, unsurprisingly, studied art. Rapunzel was her name, and she began to date Rider within a month of their first meeting. Seamus had to admit that they made a cute couple. Being home-schooled her entire life left Rapunzel with an idealized picture of the world that forced Rider to become a better man, if by a smidge. All things considered, they were good for each other and Seamus was glad they behaved like a normal couple.

The second person to become a regular visitor was a young man called Hans Westergaard. Now, the name alone was a lot to unpack. His name was _Hans Westergaard_ for Christ’s sake; who called their son ‘Hans’ in this day and age?

Old money apparently, as Seamus learned very quickly. Rider attached himself to Hans precisely because he hailed from an old rich family and could teach him how to behave nicely around upper-class girls like Rapunzel. As fate would have it, the Westergaards were friends with Rapunzel’s family so it all worked out perfectly.

Well, it should have. Since Hans visited them so often it was inevitable that he would eventually meet Seamus’ brother, Murphy. The fateful meeting took place on the first Saturday morning in April. Hans had stayed the night at their place – Rider had bullied him into helping him with an essay – and Murphy decided to say hello.

Seamus’ brother was a quiet man. In fact, some would call him an offensively quiet man. Murphy barely talked to his friends and never with strangers unless spoken to first. Meanwhile Hans was a chatty man and a believer in good manners and etiquette. With all this in mind, Seamus was sure that these two would say hello, make unsuccessful small talk, and never interact ever again.

Ding, dong, he could not have been more wrong.

Not only did they like each other, but for the longest time he and Rider and Rapunzel thought they got together soon after. How could they NOT think that when Hans – who had no issues with chastening people and steamrolling over the poor bastards standing in his way – began to praise Murphy? Then he brought him homemade food and expensive fruits and invitations to the theatre. Not the cinema, the fricking _theatre._

Again, they should not have been surprised by this. Hans had kindly informed them of his very fancy family that lived in a very fancy house back on the Southern Isles.

Although ‘house’ was a humble word in Seamus’ opinion since he had seen the pictures and that was an estate. A house was supposed to be two or three-stories tall with a little yard in the back. What he saw was the home of a rich Victorian poet. Of course, Seamus would expect nothing less from a family that sent all thirteen of their children to a private school where the boys wore hats and girls dressed as if they were nurses in a period drama set in the nineteen-fifties.

And Murphy liked him. Unbelievable.

It was obvious that his brother liked Hans. Whenever someone dared to interrupt Hans – and Hans was too startled to chide them – then Murphy shut them up with either a glare or…no. No, a glare was enough to silence an ordinary Joe. On top of that, Murphy let the pretty boy ‘spruce up’ his new flat with incense and knitted blankets and pretty soaps no one was allowed to use.

Seamus had also lost count of how many times he had heard his brother say ‘Stop annoying him’ and ‘Don’t be rude’. These scolds came the morning after Hans visited them (without Murphy, mind you) and got annoyed, which could only mean they were talking to each other in their own time.

Imagine his surprise when these two lovestruck idiots told him that they were not dating.

The day: first of June. The setting: _The Snuggly Duckling_ café that Hans disliked yet was forever pressured into frequenting by Rapunzel. It was the same that day – Rapunzel wanted to try a new sweet tea there and refused to go alone. The five of them sat on a round table outside, enjoying the sunshine, when she said, “Eugene and I’ve been dating for five months next week! What about you?”

Hans had gestured at himself. “Me?”

“You and Murphy!” She drank her sweet tea and gingerly added, “You are dating, aren’t you?”

Murphy knitted his brows while Hans stared at Rapunzel with wide, startled eyes. “We aren’t,” he said, buttoning up his bottle-green cardigan. “No, we most certainly are not. Why?”

“What do you mean you’re not dating?” demanded Rider. “Yes, you are.”

“We are not,” said Hans, really emphasizing the last word.

“I’m pretty sure you are.” Rider loudly sipped his coffee. He had a lot of experience in badgering Hans – they bickered like two friends whose political views took a sharp turn after their respective mid-life crises – and it looked like he was going to hone skill yet again. “You pretty much spend all your time at Murph’s place; bought him those stupid soaps with your own money, too.”

“The soaps aren’t stupid.” Hans frowned. “They are scented with frankincense and myrrh and are to be opened for special occasions or distinguished guests; and, no, you are not one of them,” he added when Rider opened his mouth.

“Alright. Then what is a distinguished guest?”

“My parents, for example. My brothers as well.”

Rider titled his head, nodded, whispered something to Rapunzel and then said, “You say this and tell me you’re not dating? He’s met your parents?”

“No,” said Murphy, surprising everyone by throwing in his two cents. “These are…precautions. In case they do.”

“My parents have been itching to come visit,” murmured Hans. “And my father will insist upon meeting my friends and acquaintances. The soaps are for him.”

“I’m so sorry,” said Flynn, and Seamus knew there was not a shroud of regret in him at the moment, “I forgot that frankincense and myrrh are exclusively for kings and queens. Mere mortals like us will make do with the supermarket stuff.”

The subject of love was dropped in favour of two young men arguing over beauty products; Rapunzel eagerly joined the debate since she liked to make her own.

Though the topic shifted drastically, Seamus found himself mulling over this revelation. He watched how his brother, perhaps without realizing it, placed a hand on Hans and how later he said he’d come by their flat after walking his friend home.

Rider and Rapunzel were justifiably miffed at their shattered assumptions. They complained a bit as they walked with Seamus, then bounced to the mall for ice cream and window-shopping. This suited him perfectly. He wanted to have a private word with his brother and Rapunzel got his flatmate out of his hair. It wasn’t that he got on their nerves, which he did, it was that Murphy got snappish round him.

Once at home, he had cracked open a can of dark mild and waited for his brother. Little did Seamus know that that evening he would be treated to the most frustrating conversation in recent memory.

He puffed out a cloud of smoke into the chill night air. That happened June. It was October now and practically nothing had changed. If anything, his brother’s love life had gotten worse. Murphy, the blessed fool, was convinced that him and Hans were ‘fundamentally incompatible’ (fundamentally, eh? pretty boy influenced his very language these days) due to the latter’s origins while Hans – according to Rider and Rapunzel – thought it would be wrong for him to initiate anything serious lest he accidentally insults Murphy. _One’s wallowing in self-deprecation and the other will deport himself should he offend an older man he respects,_ observed Seamus. _Fantastic._

They had been tormenting him the whole summer. Rider had described the situation as a case of ‘not actually unrequited love’ which took the words out of Seamus’ mouth. That was literally it. June, July, August, and September were filled to the brim with wistful sighs and longing stares and too much defensiveness on all fronts. They especially did not like it when strangers thought they were dating.

It had gotten so bad that Rider created a group chat that excluded those two because it was dedicated to documenting this nonsense.

Another cloud of smoke. Seamus let out a deep breath and rubbed his temple. He rarely smoked, preferring to reserve it for truly dire situations. “Oh, Brother,” he said to the night sky, “why are you this dumb?”

The front door clicked open. _Speak of the Devil!_ He thought as he heard a silvery voice fill the room, and returned inside the flat.

Seamus was treated with a quick greeting from his brother and his unacknowledged beau. Sizing them up, he could maybe understand why Murphy thought they were too different to be together. His brother was as always dressed in his trusty jeans, black t-shirt, and a beaten leather jacket that he bought four winters ago. In a stark contrast to Murphy’s standard monochrome outfit, Hans was clad in whites and pastels – he was wearing an embroidered sweater for goodness’ sake.

“We’ve brought cheesecake,” said Hans, already taking off his shoes. “Where’s Flynn?”

“Out.”

“With Rapunzel?” Seamus nodded. “Ah, I see. The cake is from that bakery across the street from my flat. I suppose we just have to leave him a slice or two so he doesn’t pester me to get him something from there again.”

As Hans busied himself with setting the table – he disliked how plainly the Stabbingtons did it – Seamus noticed his brother twiddling his thumbs by the window, gaze solemnly set on the younger man. When said man disappeared into the kitchen to fetch the kettle, he approached his brother and asked him if he was okay.

“Yeah,” said Murphy, eye glued to the kitchen door. “Um, I want to—uh you know.”

“I don’t.” He clapped his back. “Murph, you’ll have to speak clearer than that for me to understand.”

His brother scowled and tapped his foot against the floor, then he reluctantly murmured, “I’d like to take him to the cinema on Saturday.”

 _It’s happening._ “That’s great!” Seamus smiled. “Why’re you bothered?”

“Because I don’t know how to do it exactly.”

“What do you mean—”

“Hush!”

“Sorry, sorry” said Seamus in a hushed voice. “What do you mean by that? You’ve asked girls before to the pictures.”

“This is different.” Murphy bit his lip and folded his arms. “Look—”

“Seamus, how do you want your tea?” interrupted Hans, returning from the kitchen with kettle in one hand and a carton of milk in another. “With milk or without?”

“Without,” he said, shooting his brother an encouraging glance and rolling his eyes at the stubbornly negative reaction. Knowing Murphy, he will bury the subject six feet under the ground while his beau was around; and almost as if to prove himself consistent, he was indeed dead quiet over tea. He smiled sometimes – when addressed directly by Hans – yet mostly kept to himself, sadly cutting the cheesecake with the side of the fork.

Hans fared no better. It really was infuriating that the social butterfly of a man was incapable of talking to Murphy about the important things like going to the movies together. He mentioned some film shown at the cinema that he wanted to see with someone, and when he said, “Perhaps Rider will be free next weekend,” Seamus saw his brother wince.

It was unbearable. The air was thick with so much tension that he could cut through it like butter. How was a man to enjoy pricey cheesecake when his tablemates were clumsily giving and misreading each other’s signs?

Once he realized that his brother will absolutely not make a move, he near-slammed the fork on the table and exclaimed, “I can’t stand this anymore! This is—good God you two are driving me and everyone else up the wall.” He turned towards his brother. “Murphy, do you want to take Hans to the cinema on Saturday?”

His brother went through the seven stages of grief before landing squarely on anger. The ridge of his brow lowered in a glower and he avoided looking at Hans, but he finally said, “…yes. Yes, I do.”

“Alright.” Seamus gestured at Hans. “Do you want to go with him?”

Hans’ hand was frozen mid-air holding a teacup. He started suddenly, as if waking up from a trance, and flushed pink. Green eyes darted towards Murphy – whose face promised to beat Seamus later – before a smile curved on his lips. “Yes,” said Hans with uncharacteristic sheepishness. “I’d like that very much.”

“Excellent!” Seamus returned to his cheesecake. “I’m very happy for you both. Now can we please eat in peace?” _Idiots. Took you two long enough,_ he thought. It was…a journey. Still, he was pleased to his brother smile like a schoolboy at the prospect of his criminally long-awaited date.


End file.
